


Emesis Basin

by shiveringhand



Category: The Last of Us (Video Games)
Genre: Death, Gen, Hospitalization, Medical
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:14:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28198230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shiveringhand/pseuds/shiveringhand
Summary: St Mary's Hospital. Ellie wants to help the Fireflies create a vaccine against Cordyceps. Joel disapproves.
Relationships: Ellie & Joel (The Last of Us)
Kudos: 12





	Emesis Basin

A thick veil of clouds lay on top of a persistently dense layer of fog, hiding any spark of sun that might be visible behind them. It appears the weather has swallowed everything, the roofs of abandoned buildings, the overgrown zoo as well as an empty parking lot previously swarming with military trucks and soldiers repeating their drills. It’s late afternoon but one couldn’t really tell, just by looking outside, because it’s dark enough to be day or night. Within the walls of St. Mary’s it doesn’t really matter either way. 

How much time has passed since the smuggler and the girl arrived? Might've been weeks, or mere hours. In the hospital's idle yet rigorous regime time loses meaning. Each and everyone must play their part, the doctor, the nurses, the patients themselves, in an never ending circle even an apocalypse can't shake. 

Hooked on an IV, Ellie snores softly on a hospital bed by a large dirty window. She’s curled up, back against one of the rails on each side of the mattress, and her face, buried under a light green blanket so thin it might as well be a sheet. A lamp integrated to the wall above her head casts its gloomy light on her greasy hair and the pale blue gown she's wearing. Joel sits in an armchair opposite the bed, dozing on and off, on guard, for what, he’s not sure himself either.

The dormant mood of the room shakes up when Jerry, the surgeon walks in with a sweet and kind looking nurse. The surgeon is in his scrubs and a long white coat, its sleeves and hem stained with brownish yellowish dirt. The only thing screaming post-breakout about his well put together look, is a handgun, casually displayed on its holster by his waist. His step is light, like he's mentally already done with the interaction about to take place by the bedside. 

“We’ll need another sample,” Jerry says as a greeting.

Ellie perks up, yawning.

"Ah! You were asleep, my bad," he smiles and pauses to observe the readings on the monitor by the bed.

“What is it you'll need? More blood? Or a strand of hair?" the girl asks, pulling a sleeve up obediently. There's a dressing on it, right on top of the old bite mark. The crooks of both of her arms are already grazed up from earlier tests. 

"No," Jerry says absentmindedly and writes something down in a notebook before turning to look at her. 

"We'll need more." 

He says it firmly, but friendly, as if Ellie had been running errands and forgot to get eggs. 

"Like what?" the girl frowns.

Jerry hesitates. He glances instinctively at the man sitting to his left, they exchange looks.

"Something like… a finger," the surgeon says and Joel stands up fast enough to startle the nurse sorting out Ellie's IV. 

The man doesn't direct his aggression towards anyone in particular but Ellie's eyes drill into his upset face.

"Joel," the girl warns him, and the old man sits back down, muttering to himself.

"Let’s say, your left pinkie," Jerry continues, glancing towards Joel, just to make sure he's not going to jump up again. "You won’t miss it too sorely, right?" he jokes, and aside from the old smuggler, everyone seems to think it's perfectly normal for a medical professional to request a teenage girl to amputate a finger on her perfectly healthy hand.

"Yeah," Ellie replies instantly. "Yeah, of course not."

The surgeon and her smile at each other casually.

"Great! I'll ask the nurses to prepare for the operation right away."

"Wait! Will it, uh… will it hurt?" Ellie rushes to ask, aiming for a tone of academic curiosity rather than one of fear.

"Local anesthetics, a couple of stitches. It'll be over before you know it!" Jerry assures her.

"Sounds good," Ellie nods, not entirely sure that answered her question. Even so, she smiles and taps the rail of her bed confidently, as if she'd just finalized a great deal in her favor.

"Sounds bat shit crazy to me," Joel scoffs but no-one pays him any mind. Ellie makes sure her smile doesn't drop one inch.

"Thank you, Ellie. You’ve no idea how important this is. Soon we'll get to study the reactions of your cell tissue in real time!" Jerry exclaims thrilled and walks off.

Once the footsteps of both the surgeon and the nurse fade, the same loud silence that dwelled in the room before their interruption returns. The monitor beeps nonthreateningly in the corner as if only to remind others of its existence. Ellie relaxes her stance, leans against the chair positioned bed of hers and sighs. Studying her spread out palms she thinks of what’s to come. Agreeing to such an operation is an entirely different thing than the mildly uncomfortable tests from before. Blood drawn, vial after vial, even the biopsy of her bite mark, they had all been reversible or unharmful, but to lose a finger… Without being able to say why exactly, the girl feels like some sort of line has been crossed. 

“The things we do for science, huh?” Ellie chuckles. 

Joel looks at her, clears his throat and remains silent.

\---

After the operation a young girl, not much older than Ellie, with her short blonde hair neatly braided to the back of her head, comes carrying a tray. Ellie smiles, seeing her approach.

"Abby!" 

"I brought lunch!" the girl replies and sets the tray in front of Ellie on an overbed table.

"Have you been out?" Ellie asks, eyeing the colorless pile of plain oatmeal in front of her. She goes for a stale granola bar instead.

"No, not today."

Abby takes a seat in Joel's usual spot and stares unabashedly at Ellie as she struggles to use her shaking, heavily bandaged left hand.

"Where's the smuggler?"

"I'm not sure." 

"Hmh. Can't be too far. He refuses to leave the floor for too long, doesn't he?"

"Well…" Ellie begins, embarrassed of having to come up with excuses for Joel's bad attitude towards literally everyone in the building.

"He's always either here, or arguing with anyone willing to listen. It's pretty annoying," Abby laughs. 

"Did I mention," Ellie hurries to change the subject, "I've been catching up on Savage Starlight." she wipes the corners of her mouth. "The latest volume I've got ends with a cliffhanger."

"That's too bad," Abby empathises.

"Yeah…"

"How's the hand?" 

"Feels alright," Ellie shrugs.

"Good good," Abby smiles, nodding as if she was the doctor and not her father. 

"Dad says we might go search for the zebras again later this week if they don't show up soon."

"We saw giraffes on our way here," Ellie brags.

"I've seen them too," Abby yawns. "But did I tell you about the zebra that gave birth on the day you guys arrived? Dad says it was a good omen. Have you ever seen one up close?"

"No...” Ellie picks her teeth before taking another big bite of the granola bar again. “Maybe we can go after ‘em once I get out of here," she suggests.

"Uhh, yeah," Abby smiles carefully avoiding to look at the other girl's face.

Swallowing, Ellie continues without skipping a beat, "I heard there's a bunch of other animals around here too. What's your favorite one so far?"

"I'm honestly more into fish and that short of stuff," Abby replies quickly, eying the door a little nervously.

"I see," Ellie nods, wiping her mouth. Then suddenly she snorts, "Hah, get it? I… _sea_! Like, the ocean." 

"Oh wow," Abby grins and they both chuckle at the terribly lazy pun.

\---

The next morning Jerry returns. Both Ellie and Joel fix their posture when they see his gleeful face peek from the door. They've been killing time mostly in silence again, both wanting to know eagerly, Ellie maybe more than Joel, what came of her left hand's pinkie.

"How's my very favorite patient doing this morning!" Jerry greets her.

Ellie nods shortly, so nervous she completely forgets to smile and play the poster child of science for a moment.

“Your readings look good, treatment’s running smoothly," the surgeon lists. "Now, about the sample…,” he pauses, seeing the anticipation on Ellie's face, "There were complications."

“Am I not immune anymore?”

“No," Jerry laughs. "No it’s not that. It’s uhh…”

The surgeon grins, trying to figure out how to best explain the situation. “I seem to have misplaced it."

"Misplaced?"

"Yeah," Jerry rubs the back of his neck, like a school boy getting caught stealing an apple, "We were chasing wildlife out in the yard when a horde nearly ambushed us. When we got back, the sample wasn’t in my bag anymore. I must’ve... dropped it somewhere.”

“Oh...” 

“Yeah. Should’ve been more careful,” Jerry laughs, embarrassed. 

Ellie joins in on it tiredly. She bows her head and smooths the wrinkled surface of her blanket with the healthy hand. All day, she's done nothing but lay in bed, waiting to hear the results. Meanwhile the good doctor and his daughter were out in the yard, having a carefree adventure that quite literally cost her a finger. Ellie's so shaken by the events she doesn't even think to get mad at them. She just stares ahead, lost in her thoughts.

"So," the surgeon claps his hands together, “I know this might seem less than ideal to you but uhh...we’ll need a new sample!”

That’s when Joel steps forward, mumbles something inaudible, and before anyone can react, shoves the surgeon away from the bedside violently. 

“Is this some fucking game to you lot, huh? Dismember her limb by limb?” he roars.

Jerry stumbles but manages to stay on his feet. He runs a hand confusedly across his short hair. Joel raises his arms, expecting a fight but the nurse steps in between the two men.

“That’s enough!” she says firmly, not allowing Joel past her.

“I’ll schedule the operation for this afternoon, if it’s alright by you, Ellie,” Jerry tells the girl, massaging his sore shoulder. He doesn't seem surprised by the old man’s reaction, not that it was pleasant either. 

“Yeah, you better run!” Joel shouts after the surgeon as he makes his leave soon after. The nurse gives him a disapproving look but doesn’t say anything. She watches the man pause by the window and cross his arms. Finally, after she’s quite sure Joel’s not going to cause a scene, she glances back at the monitor and the girl next to it. 

“You up for it, sweety?” she asks.

“Of course." Ellie nods without hesitation. "Too bad for the first sample though.”  
“Yeah.” 

“Do you think I could go see the zebras with Abby after?”  
  
The nurse flashes a smile and writes Ellie’s results on a piece of paper for later bookkeeping before replying, “I’m afraid that’s not possible. We’ve got plenty of other tests to run while we wait for the results on the sample itself.”

"Oh..." Ellie’s smile fades. “Makes sense.”

“But you might be able to see them through the window if you wait patiently enough,” the nurse suggests and taps the dirty glass. She has to wiggle between the foot of the bed and Joel on her way out. 

“Right.” Ellie nods and makes sure to sound cheerful even though her weak smile doesn’t reach her glazed eyes as she stares out the window into the foggy yard. 

"We’ll be back a little later for the preparations, okay?” the nurse waves from the door. 

“Yeah. See you then!” Ellie says, without turning to look at her. 

As soon as the door closes, Joel kicks the foot of his chair frustrated. 

“Sample, huh?” he scoffs and runs both hands across his face, trying to calm his nerves. “They talk of it as if it was just a piece of cloth that fell from his pocket and not your-”

When he turns to Ellie the man expects to see a scared teenager in need of consolation, or Ellie’s version of that anyway. Instead, the girl boils with rage. 

Her face, red with embarrassment Ellie hisses back, “How can you be such an asshole to them!” 

“Oh, I'm the asshole?” Joel laughs. “Keep agreeing to their every whim and you’ll be a cripple by the end of this so called ‘treatment’.” He rests both his hands firmly on the footboard of the bed, gripping it as if to better get his point across.

“Come on, don’t you think you’re overexaggerating a little?” Ellie chuckles humorlessly.

“How’re you goin’ to shoot with that hand, huh? Ever think of that?”

“I’m not left handed.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Whatever,” Ellie sighs and runs both hands through her hair. The bandaged one does a terrible job at wiping any actual stands from her face. 

Joel cocks an eyebrow, “See?”

“They're trying to solve a mystery,” Ellie snaps back. “And it’s supposed to be the coolest thing I’ve ever taken part of. You should be happy for me. But instead you just... whine like a fucking baby." 

Joel stares back at the girl, speechless. 

"Why do you even stick around, huh? No-one’s forcing you to stay, Joel.”

“That’s not-”

“If you hate it so much just go away!”

"Go where?" Joel frowns.

"Anywhere! I don’t care. Just leave me alone," Elli snaps and turns her back at him, pulling the cover over her shoulder. Unable to move from the bed or leave the scene herself, it’s the only thing she can do for a bit of privacy. 

Joel shakes his head and sighs. He opens his mouth to try and argue back but Ellie’s faster. 

“Get out of my room!”

So at that, Joel grabs his bag and takes his leave. 

When Abby brings Ellie her food tray after the new operation Ellie lies on her side pretending to be asleep. She’s not in the mood for a conversation. 

\---

In the following days they take blood and run even more tests on Ellie. Another biopsy of her bite mark as well as one off of her liver get taken. They’re relatively easy procedures with only mild hemorrhage but they weaken the girl immensely. Despite heavy iron infusions and strict bed rest to allow her to recover, on the day of a spinal fluid collection she can barely lift an arm. She spends most of her days dozing on and off, living in an endless cycle of sleep deprivation and poor pain management due to supply shortages. The surgeon pushes on with the tests, with Ellie’s enthusiastic and continuous, albeit occasionally half unconscious, approval. By the end of the ordeal, they’re both relieved to find her results looking promising. 

When Jerry sits by her bedside, describing the study and how the enzymes behave, a wide smile appears on Ellie’s pale, exhausted face. Together they admire a set of her head scans and chuckle at how close to an actual prototype vaccine he’s gotten with what they’ve got. 

“The best and defining sample can only be collected at the final stage of the treatment, from piercing the cerebral cortex, right?” Ellie confirms and Jerry nods, mesmerized by her enthusiasm and wit. 

She memorizes everything to the letter, parroting the surgeon’s notions as if she herself could somehow personally take credit for the success of the end product. They’re like two med students marveling at the miracles of modern medicine. 

Joel is nowhere to be seen. Ellie thinks back on how mad he got about the extra finger amputation. Perhaps the man stays away, not daring to witness her being stripped away from him piece by piece. How meaningless the loss of a couple of fingers feels now, Ellie thinks, after having been put through so many other invasive examinations. It doesn’t matter if the surgeon asks for an arm or a leg next time. Ellie’s prepared. This is her destiny. If Joel can't handle that then he's wise to stay away.

The sun plays on the surgeon’s reading glasses as he pulls out two small jars. Ellie squints her eyes and sees that each of them have a small pink-ish blob swimming in some thick liquid inside. 

“Here you can see the clearly mutated tissue, whereas your liver sample is clear,” Jerry explains. “No reaction when exposed to the cordyceps virus.”

“Wow! Lemme see!” Ellie giggles and grabs the jars from him. She holds both of them close to her face, but even against the light they seem almost identical. The other one’s just a little bit greyer. 

“Who’s the other sample from?” she asks, curious. 

“Oh, just some corpse outside,” Jerry shrugs and goes on about something else. “Now, wait until you see the latest lab results. We ran some new tests and…”

Ellie’s smile fades. Indeed, she thinks to herself, it would be inhuman to test that sort of thing on a living being. Suddenly, overwhelmed by the thought she finds herself wanting all of the samples, scans and facts out of her sight. But when Jerry turns to her, pointing at a figure on a piece of paper, she smiles and nods and listens. Despite the room being calm and well aired for once, she hears nothing but a loud buzz and the deafening beats of her own heart in her ears.

In the evening when the door knob of her room turns Ellie lifts her head up with great effort, hoping to see Joel. But it’s not him. It’s Abby, with a tray of food. Ellie’s sour face must reveal something as the girl lifts a questioning eyebrow at her. 

“Have you seen Joel?” Ellie asks, rubbing her side. Laying down for such a long time has had its toll on her body. Every bone and joint aches as if she had suddenly aged decades. 

“No.” 

“Any idea where he might be?” Ellie demands, as if it was the girl's fault he's gone.

Abby places the tray on a side table next to Ellie’s bed and takes a moment to think about it. 

“I heard him and Marlene talking this morning. Something about going back to Wyoming?” 

“I see…” Ellie mumbles.

Abby looks at her and can’t help frowning a little. The girl looks utterly pathetic, with her hand and both arms all wrapped up, and her mournful eyes, surrounded by bruise colored skin, searching for the old man, hoping he'd somehow magically appear from behind her. There she sits, with great effort, holding a can of pickled apples like an orphan in an old English folk tale. Abby tries to cheer her up by saying she doubts Joel would leave without saying goodbye. 

“Yeah,” Ellie replies, feeling the weight of loneliness hit her harder in that very moment than ever before.

“I’m going to die, am I not?” Ellie whispers.

Her voice is so quiet she can barely hear it herself. Embarrassed of her own vulnerability and hoping to clear her throat, she raises a water glass to her chipped lips and pours its content down with a shaky hand. A napkin glued to the bottom of the glass falls on the ground. Abby picks it up.

“What was that?” she asks, straightening her back.

Ellie puts the glass black down and wipes her mouth. She stares at her meal, too nauseous to eat. 

Once the silence gets awkward enough, Abby scratches her elbow, pursing her lips. 

“Need anything else?” the blonde girl asks. 

“Actually, could you help me to the bathroom? I haven't seen a nurse all day.”

Abby glances at the door and then back at Ellie. She looks like she'd like to clarify something but then thinks better of it. “Of course,” she smiles instead. 

Slowly, and with great effort, Ellie pulls herself from under a pile of blankets and sheets that she's buried her feverish and slim body under. No matter how eagerly she had waited for the bed rest to be over, after being poked and drained by various medical instruments all week long, Ellie finds it extremely hard to stand up, let alone walk. She's like on a different planet where its gravity pulls her down to her knees, and the dusty old floor tiles aren't smooth at all. They've turned into icicles under her bare feet. Abby's firm grip seems to sear through her shivering cold skin. Every joint and muscle aching, refusing to co-operate she advances slowly. It feels absurd to think that just a few days prior, she was running, climbing and fighting off clickers, full of energy. Even though she had been tired before, this sort of all consuming exhaustion was completely new to her. 

Eventually, step by step, with the support of Abby, Ellie manages to get seated on the toilet. 

“Will you be alright if I go over there quickly?” the blonde girl asks, pointing at the general direction of the door. 

“Sure, no problem,” Ellie smiles and winces as she tries to move her hips to better adjust herself on the seat. 

Once Abby is gone Ellie listens to the occasional drop hitting the bottom of a sink and the violent hum of large pipes above her head. What an eerie sound, Ellie thinks to herself, running water. The hollow walls of the small room echo as she sniffles and hugs herself helplessly. And she cries. She cries in the unpleasant to look at, uncontrollable and immature way, selfishly thinking of her fate. 

She doesn’t want to die. She wants to chase after zebras, learn how to swim and play the guitar, to see the world and to find out how her favorite comic ends. To hell with the glorious cause and the triumphs of science, she wants to live!

Carefully Ellie unwraps the gauze in her left hand and through her tears, observes the bruised and swollen stumps that used to be her fingers. She pokes at the tip of one of them and grins in pain. She takes a look at the slightly soaked through patch on top of the bite mark in her right arm and sniffles loudly. This ain’t right, she tells herself. 

_Think of all of those who can be saved._

Slowly, like the way she rolls the bandage back around her left hand, Ellie gathers her strenght. She reaches the healthier arm to grab a hold of the sink’s edge and manages to pull herself up just straight enough to see her own frightened eyes stare back at her in the mirror. The gloomy light from above throws unappealing shadows on her freckled face; the dirty haired pale girl in the reflection looks like a ghost she barely recognizes. When the sight makes her want to pity herself, Ellie forces her thoughts to Riley, Tess and Sam, all gone without getting much of a say in the matter. Wiping her eyes angrily, Ellie tells herself there’s no backing out. Not now, when the surgeon’s got a piece of her cordyceps resistant liver tissue floating in a test tube. Now she’s got to finish what she started.

When neither Abby nor the nurse comes back for her, Ellie starts dragging herself out of the bathroom on her own. Was the room always this big, she wonders, leaning against the bathroom door frame. The distance to her bed seems longer than the entire trip from Boston to Salt Lake City had been. Reaching for the back of an armchair Ellie loses balance and is about to fall down. On that very moment Joel walks in and manages to catch her. 

“Hey, hey…” he says and helps her back to bed. “You alright? Why are you up?”

“You didn’t leave after all,” Ellie replies and winces as she tries in vain to settle her aching body on the hard mattress in any kind of comfortable way. 

“What?” Joel frowns. “Leave to go where?”

“To Wyoming.”

Ellie lies down with her eyes closed, the fear of Joel abandoning her instantly starting to fade. She feels her breathing level. 

"You think I'd just up and leave?" Joel scoffs, offended. "Now? With you like this?" He wipes a hand across his mouth and shakes his head.

Ellie smiles and lets out a sigh of relief. It gets cut short when a sharp pain on her side reminds her of her fragile state.

"Can I do anything for you?" Joel asks, helplessly.

"Could you- I don't know, maybe-" Ellie struggles to finish a sentence. She flutters tears of pain from her eyes.

There’s no doubt about it, she’s visibly in pain; maybe it wasn’t such a great idea trying to walk back from the bathroom on her own. Joel hoovers over her, not knowing where to touch or what to do. 

"Should I go ask for a nurse?" he suggests but Ellie grabs a hold of his wrist faster than the man can move an inch. Her hand is cold.

"Please stay."

“You look like you could use a heavy dose of, I don’t know, just about anything, to knock you out,” Joel frowns, worried. 

Ellie just looks at him, big dark ghost eyes pleading. 

Sighing, the man relaxes his tense shoulders and leans in closer to wipe a strand of hair off Ellie's forehead. It’s moist with cold sweat.

"Just say the word," Joel murmurs, stroking Ellie's hair a little clumsily. "Just say the word and I'll kill all these bastards and get you outta here. I swear..." 

His voice breaks but he covers up for it by clearing his throat. 

"I'm sure you would," Ellie chuckles weakly, eyes closing again. Despite the constant ache and exhaustion, she feels relaxed, knowing Joel’s here. 

"I think I'm gonna nap," the girl says quietly. "Can you… keep petting my hair?" 

"Yeah, I'm here. You just go on get some sleep.” 

Joel drags a chair closer with one hand, not letting the other one lose contact with her forehead.

"I'm not goin' anywhere." 

His voice is soft and defenseless. The gentle strokes of his large rough hands and the sow huff of his breath lul Ellie into a calm she hasn't felt all week.

\---

When Ellie wakes up, it's already dark. She tries turning on the light above her bed but pressing on the switch does nothing. There’s a thunderstorm outside but the girl doubts it has much to do with the power cut, since the hospital seems to be operating on quite the skeleton crew, running out of supplies as well as electricity it's nothing new. Being unable to stand up Ellie just lies there, waiting for something to happen. Raindrops fall heavy against the dirty glass of the window and a thunder roars somewhere in the distance. The view outside, the old buildings’s rooftops, the tall and vibrant colored trees as well as the parking lot, all melt into an undefinable grey porridge. If the zebras are out there, there’s no way to spot them in the dark of the night. Even so, Ellie kills time, just staring out the window, wishing for a glimpse of black and white beneath the trees. 

Eventually a nurse comes to take her vitals and apologizes for the lack of painkillers. Ellie puts on a brave face and insists it's alright but the nurse looks at her empathically and promises to see what she can find. 

"Your father's been helping us out with supplies," the nurse tells the girl. 

"Oh yeah?" Ellie smiles, not bothering to correct her. 

They both glance at the uncomfortably seated yet peacefully snoring man in his chair by the bed. He rests his head against his arm, a broken wrist watch peeking from under a rugged sleeve. He’s close enough to touch. Ellie almost runs her bandaged hand through his messy short hair. 

"Yes," the nurse nods. "He cleared a previously inaccessible part of the hospital all by himself. We can soon hope to get an entire new wing opened!" 

"That's great!" Ellie says and forces her eyes away from the sleeping man. The nurse smiles at her lopsided. 

Joel busying himself with some reckless clearing operation to pass time while waiting for… what exactly, Ellie wonders. Her permission to leave? He’s under no obligation to stay.They both know how this ends. Why stick around to see it happen?

"Anyways, do you have any wishes for your last meal?" the nurse asks, closing a paper folder and placing it on a table by the bed. She says it so casually, as if it held no meaning.

Ellie's face goes grim. Panic creeps into her throat and she stutters out a few words. They're shrieks of a cornered animal, more than any human language. It startles Joel awake. He looks around baffled, like he's dreamt this was all just a bad dream. Soon enough he comes to his senses and remembers where he is.

"What's the matter?" he asks loudly, looking like he's ready to punch someone's teeth in. 

Ellie frowns, angry at how she let her emotions get the better of her in front of the nurse. But try as she might she can't hide her shock very well. 

"She just asked me-" Ellie swallows, trying to level her voice, "about my last meal."

Joel's face goes from surprise to anger to sorrow in an instant. Ellie keeps her eyes in her hands and plays with a thread peeking from the edge of her blanket.

The nurse, blush spread up to her ears, corrects herself, "I'm so sorry. That came out wrong. I- I obviously meant, your last meal of _today_. As it's late in the evening already. Would you like some dinner? We've got two different soups, fish and carrot." 

" _Oooh_ ," Joel lets out a relieved laugh. 

Ellie sniffles embarrassed, "I thought you meant-" she begins.

"Yeah, I was pretty sure she was talkin' about, about the-" Joel stutters.

"Yeah, me too!"

The couple laughs and wipes their eyes until they're panting and gasping for air. Finally once they calm down, the nurse addresses Ellie again.

"So which soup-"

"Uhh, I'll have the carrot, please," Ellie smiles and there's a spark in her eyes, like she's at a restaurant, ordering starters like any normal teenager might have had, twenty years ago. Although now it's something she's only seen in movies.

Joel looks at the kid perplexed. The kind of confidence and clarity of mind the little girl possesses, while she must know she’ll soon be facing her own doom, amazes him. Seeing Ellie so determined, admittedly annoys the old man in a strange way. The girl is too damn smart for her own good!

If they could change places right now, Joel can't say he'd do it. He wishes he would. He'd deny if anyone asked him, but he knows deep down he would be a coward. And can anyone blame him? Better a sudden and violent death by the circumstances outside the hospital than the slow and humiliating fading of one's body and soul, in a place like this. 

And even so, there's nothing Joel craves more than to give the girl a chance to live a full life. Not the kind she's had, back at the QZ in Boston but a taste of real life; to have her grow, explore the world and her limits, fall in love and grow a little family maybe. In Jackson she could have all of that. The kid must know this. And yet, she chooses the ultimate sacrifice. Her whole life with all of its meaning, the small joys and sorrows, for the benefit of others. Is it even certain the surgeon will succeed? 

Ellie eats her soup with great appetite. She’s in a good mood. Joel sits in his chair and stares into emptiness. He startles from his thoughts when Ellie teases him about his somber state.

"I'm not grumpy," the man growls, making an even grumpier face on purpose before smiling goofily at her. 

It makes the girl laugh. She waves a spoon in one hand and rubs the back of her ear with another, describing, in great detail, what happened in her dream the other night. Apparently in it, Joel had been paralyzed from legs down, except he didn't realize it himself. Ellie had been chasing him down the corridors of St. Mary's with a wheelchair, urging him to stop and take a seat. 

"That's real grim," Joel drawls, picking a ball of dust off his shirt sleeve. 

"Nah, it was ridiculous. You should've seen yourself, running around, bare ass blinking from underneath the gown!" Ellie snorts but Joel doesn't join in on her glee.

"Whatever, sour face," the girl sighs then, realizing there's just no pleasing him. 

They stay like that, frozen in time, for a good while. Ellie scrapes the remains of a vanilla pudding from a small glass jar while Joel stares out of the window, into the thunderstorm. The room is dark aside from the small circle of light casting from the panel integrated into the wall above Ellie’s bed. If it weren’t for the bandages, IV and other visibly hospital related gear surrounding the teenage girl, someone might think they were simply waiting out the rain on their way forward. But there’s nowhere left to go. The dark room at the end of the long corridor is where the story ends. 

Once finished with her dinner, Ellie leans back and sighs satisfied. Joel’s dramatic silence annoys her but she can't bring herself to mention it. She doesn't want to spend her last days arguing. Either way, it would be nice to get something out of the guy. It’s not like they owe each other anything but they did travel across half the country together. Surely he’s got some words of encouragement or sympathy to share? 

Ellie takes a few deep breaths before speaking, "Abby and her father are going to see the zebras again tomorrow."

"Who?" 

"Abby, the surgeon's daughter,” Ellie says and waits for a response. “The girl who brings me my food sometimes."

"Oh, her," Joel mutters absentmindedly without lifting his gaze from the window. He spins his knife slowly in one hand. A thunder strikes in the yard and its light flashes on the old man’s face for a second, like someone wanted to have his picture taken, in order to remember the grim look on his face. 

Ellie frowns unsatisfied. 

"I think she's curious to see me."

No reply.

"I can't blame her though. I'd be curious about me too,” she chuckles and pulls a funny face. 

Ellie waits for a reaction. A word of comfort, a single manly tear or a sniffle, anything. But Joel keeps spinning the knife, staring out the window like he's in trance.

"Or maybe she just wants to see what kind of a freak would give their life for a bunch of strangers,” Ellie says a little louder. 

At that, Joel turns to look at her. 

“What?” Ellie laughs. “You think I don’t know about their plan to drill through my skull to, what was it, ‘remove the mutated Cordyceps growth’?”

"You don't have to do it," Joel says plainly, folding his knife away. “They’ve got no right-”

"But I want to," Ellie insists, smiling defensively. She's got an almost playful look on her face and when her lips curve in that mischievous angle she hopes Joel would challenge her for it. 

"How can you?" the man shakes his head, searching for words. "How can you throw away your life, more precious than anything?"

Ellie scoffs, "Well, I’m not so sure about precious."

"But it is! Most folks get theirs taken away way before their time, but you actually have a choice and you choose to…" 

For some reason Joel can't bring himself to mention death, even though neither of them are exactly strangers to its rotting scrawny claws. The way those skeleton fingers curl around his throat, choking and suffocating... It feels as though the grim reaper himself had set camp in the rasp of his throat, in the breathlessness of his lungs, simply to stand as a constant reminder of just how little control he has over the lives of those dearest to him, no matter how hard he tries. No matter how many hospital wards he clears in a foolish attempt to search for alternative solutions.

"That's the whole point," Ellie replies. "I’ll give hope to those who don’t have any."

"That's mighty kind of you," Joel snarls but when their eyes meet, his frown melts.

Ellie's not mad, or blaming him for being selfish, she just looks at him, a faint smile on her pale face, annoyingly forgiving and understanding. She must've accepted her fate long before the man even realized what coming to this place entailed. 

"You're a goddamn saint, huh?"

"I have to do it, Joel. I have to," Ellie replies firmly. Or at least she hopes to sound convincing. Only a suffocated wheeze comes out, and she’s afraid if Joel pushes her any further she might just break down in tears and beg him to get rescued. That would truly be the worst possible outcome. After all, she’s the one saving him. 

Ellie holds her breath, holds it like keeping the air in her lungs long enough would get her through the whole thing faster. Joel looks at her, interpreting the intense restrained whisper as nothing but pure strength of will. Ellie’s sharp eyes peering at him at the verge of angry tears are well enough to put a spear through his heart.

_A child should never have to choose something like this…_

They study each other’s faces for a moment longer before Ellie turns her head to the side and closes her eyes. 

“I’m done talking,” she says and Joel lets her be. 

\---

Ellie's not sure how much time passes, but when she comes to her senses the storm’s calmed down and day is dawning outside. She feels a warm hand over hers. It's Marlene's. 

"Good morning,” the firefly leader says, softly. “It’s time.”

From behind her, a new nurse merges. She’s got unkind eyes and a permanent frown on her wrinkly face, and she’s pushing forward a large machine on wheels with a bunch of meters and numbers on it. It growls like a small power generator but instead of gasoline, it’s packed with other kinds of chemicals. The nurse places it at the end of the bed, blocking Ellie's view to Joel's chair. She still has time to register that it's empty.

"Where is he?" Ellie asks, fear creeping into her tone. "Has there been a change of schedule? I thought this was gonna happen next week at the earliest?"

Marlene and the nurse glance at each other. That simple gesture gets Ellie's heart racing. 

"You're going to put me under without letting us say our goodbyes?”

“It’s just a standard operation. There’s no need for goodbyes,” the nurse says, aiming for a soft and casual tone but coming off as offensively belittling instead.

Marlene glances at her, perhaps judging the nurse for keeping Ellie in the dark about the goals of the surgery. 

The lady with the unkind eyes puts down the bedrails on her side and tells Ellie to calm down, but the girl supports her upper body stubbornly on her arms, grinning in pain as she does. 

"Marlene?" Ellie pleads. "What's going on?"

The curly haired woman steps closer and takes Ellie’s hand again, pity and regret written all over her barely smiling face. 

Ellie braces herself for the worse; it was too much for Joel so he left despite swearing he wouldn't, or he got bitten, clearing some uncharted part of the hospital last night. In which case, the vaccine can't be prepared fast enough, so they're rushing the final procedure. Ellie has time to go over every horrifying scenario in her head in the time it takes to hear what’s going on, because a reply never comes. Marlene just smiles and taps her hand as if that was explanation enough. The nurse starts the machine she's brought with her, and pulls out a rubbery mask. There’s a see-through cord attached to it, and with it, she plugs the mask to the machine. She tries to place the mask on Ellie's face but she pulls it off, infurious.

"Marlene!" the girl shouts, "What the fuck happened to Joel? Why are you allowing this?" 

The Firefly leader grins in discomfort and gives the nurse a look. The nurse shakes her head as a warning but doesn’t say a word. 

"He fought with Jerry. We had to lock him up," Marlene confesses and the nurse sighs loudly, lowering her arms.

"Lock him up? Why?" Ellie frowns. 

Marlene’s frown deepens. Despite the nurse's judgemental stare, she decides to tell the truth. After all, there's no sugarcoating it, and the kid deserves at least that much. It’s the least she can do in effort to try and soothe her own guilt over the whole situation. 

"He tried to stab the surgeon."

"Stab the surgeon?" Ellie repeats, confused. 

"We can't afford to lose him, Ellie."

The nurse starts getting restless, "Listen, _Ellen_ , it’s all taken care of. The smuggler won’t be causing trouble anymore,” she says, waving the inhalation mask in front of Ellie’s face. “The operation room's ready. Surely you don't want to keep us waiting, do you?" She raises her tone at the end of the sentence but it's not really a question. Then, without warning, she pushes her young patient back to a resting position, getting ready to sedate her. 

"Let me talk to him," Ellie grunts, ignoring the nurse and resisting her efforts with the kind of stubborn strength the nurse wasn’t expecting from someone so drained and weakened by everything that’s been done to her prior. 

Marlene and Ellie stare at each other intensely for a moment, after which Marlene sighs and walks over to a wheelchair, making the nurse groan.

“You insisted you wouldn’t let your emotions get the better of you,” the nurse mutters under her breath, disappointed. The Firefly leader just shakes her head somberly, too tired to explain. 

"We don't have much time," Marlene tells the girl and Ellie nods. 

“We’ll be right back. Jerry has my word. I just… they need this,” she tells the nurse who clearly disapproves but has no authority over her. 

Together they manage to get Ellie out of the bed and into the chair, and soon enough Marlene speeds out of the room and through the long corridor with Ellie, bare foot and shivering from cold, trying to hold on to the narrow arm rests of the chair.

Marlene takes her downstairs into a parking lot and sneaks past a group of heavily armed guards playing poker by a large military truck. Up with another elevator they go, and down a grim looking concrete tunnel filled with noisy pipework. At the end of the path they go through a red door. It leads into a small waiting room full of unpacked gear: weapons, gasoline and armor, but also piles and piles of medical supplies. The light above the room flickers menacingly, and when Marlene pauses to check if the path ahead is clear, Ellie feels a sudden wave of nausea wash over her. 

"How much further?" she asks weakly, hanging her head as if it weighs a ton. 

"Not much," Marlene tells her and pushes the wheelchair on. "How're you holding on?" She asks, squeezing Ellie’s shoulder gently. 

And even though it’s one of the few genuine expressions of care she’s felt since her arrival, Ellie thinks they both know it's a silly question, since soon enough it won't matter anyway. 

"I'm alright," she says, squinting her eyes shut. Who would've guessed it was possible to get motion sickness from sitting in a chair. 

Marlene takes a quick turn in a corner and it leaves Ellie gasping in pain.

"I'm sorry," the woman whispers, sincerely horrified. "Just don't want anyone seeing us. Might get the wrong idea."

"I get it." Ellie chuckles breathlessly.

Eventually they arrive at a heavy metal door locked up from the outside with a sturdy padlock. Marlene looks around before opening it with a key. The rusted hinges make a shriek so loud, in their desperate efforts to stay undiscovered, it seems like a fanfare announcing their arrival. A group of soldiers around the corner seem to ask themselves if anyone heard anything. 

"Make it quick," Marlene whispers intensely, pushing Ellie in and slamming the door shut behind her.

Ellie looks around, trying to adjust her eyes in the dark. The only source of light is a weak shimmer coming from another room through a ventilation duct near the roof.

“Joel?” Ellie shouts and waits for a response. 

Nothing happens. Only the low and steady hum of an electrical closet somewhere nearby replies to her with its purr. Grunting with effort the girl wheels herself further in. At the end of a row of empty shelves, she sees the outline of a man, hunched down on the floor, hanging his head low, hands tied behind his back.

“Joel?” Ellie tries again.

At the sound of her voice the man raises his head and a hopeful smirk rises on his bruised face. 

“Ellie! Is that really you?” he laughs relieved. “I knew you’d come. Did you get my guns?”

When Ellie wheels herself a little closer, into the faint light from above, his smile fades and he looks almost embarrassed. There’s blood on his collar and it’s clear he got beat up pretty bad before getting thrown in the dark room. Every ounce of her being wants to untie the guy and flee. 

“Did you seriously try to attack the surgeon?” she says instead.

Joel just scoffs. 

Ellie waits for an explanation, or an apology, but the old man just hangs his head, chucking to himself. 

“How fucking dumb do you have to be to do something like that?” Ellie hisses, painfully aware of the room full of soldiers within hearing distance on the other side of the wall. If they were to stop talking in the other room and go check the door on which Marlene stands guard...

“How can you be ok with this?” Joel asks, licking his bleeding lip and spitting on the ground. When Ellie doesn’t reply, he lifts his head to see what’s going on. 

“I said how can you-”

“I’m not okay, Joel!” Ellie interrupts. “I’m not. But there’s no time to be anything else either!”

The man frowns, mouth narrowly open with surprise.

“Aren’t you supposed to, I don’t know, hold my hand and tell me it’ll be alright? I’m the one who should throw tantrums and try stabbin’ the fuckin’ surgeon. Not you.”

Joel can’t help but chuckle at just how right the girl is, even if he would’t describe the attempt murder in quite those words. 

“And I am scared shitless, thank you for asking,” Ellie swallows, having a hard time getting a word out. “I- Fuck… I don’t wanna die,” she sobs and wipes her mouth with the back of her bandaged hand.

“Ellie…” Joel sighs, instinctively trying to reach out to her but the ropes with which he’s tied to a metal pipe don’t allow much movement. “It's gonna be alright. You’re not gonna feel a thing,” he hears himself say clumsily. 

But when Ellie lets out yet another suffocated sob, the sound of her sorrow pierces Joel’s toughened up heart, the pain of it almost visceral in his chest, and so he searches for something more sincere to say.

“You’re… probably doing the right thing,” he says then, much more quietly, through gritted teeth. 

“I know I am,” Ellie sniffles, “but it’s fucked up, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Joel admits. 

A pause.

“I’m sure we could still make a run for it, you know,” the man jokes a little weakly. “I’ll carry you,” he adds, nodding at the wheelchair.

Ellie lets out a little laugh, “You’re so dumb.”

“There’s gonna be trouble if you don’t hurry up!” Marlene’s agitated voice carries through the door. 

Joel stares intensely at Ellie but the girl looks away. Her chin shivers, despite her efforts at holding back tears by clenching her jaw. 

"I-" Joel begins but doesn’t really know how to finish the sentence. 

What does one say to a kid you've learnt to care for as if she was your own? When you've finally let your guard down low enough to allow something to move you for a change, even if just to waste an I love you, once again, on a child, slipping away from your grasp?

"I'm sorry, Joel," Ellie says, unable to face him.

"Huh?" 

She forces her eyes on him. 

"I'm sorry we didn't get to play house in Jackson like you probably wished we could." 

That's when Marlene rushes in, telling them they really ought to get going. She secures Ellie in the wheelchair and heads to the door.

"Wait!" Ellie says, grabbing her arm. "Can't you let him go?"

"The smuggler?"

"Please."

The girl can't really turn well enough to see either of their faces, due to the intense pain she’s in, but Marlene looks at Ellie’s faint reflection on the surface of the metal door and thinks. Hesitating, she turns to Joel and throws a knife in his feet. That’ll do. 

Then, without another word or even a last glace, Ellie gets wheeled out and back into her room where now several nurses wait for her. She crawls back to the bed, rests her head on the uncomfortably flat pillow and takes a deep breath. 

"You ready?" Marlene asks, squeezing her hand a little. There's a needle taped onto it. 

Ellie takes another calming breath, swallows and nods. Opening her eyes one last time she smiles, "Ready."


End file.
